And Miranda was laughing.

It wasn’t a nervous titter. It was a full-throated, belly-shaking laugh, as if she were watching a comedian land a perfect punchline.

“Mommy! Mommy, I can’t see! It burns!” Sophie screamed, her voice breaking into a sob that choked her.

I lunged forward, the world narrowing down to the red, swollen skin of my daughter’s face. I reached for her, pulling her small, convulsing body against my chest, trying to stop her from rubbing the paste deeper into her eyes. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”